Obsession Rewritten
by Sulkie Wolfen
Summary: REWRITTEN! They never loved each other, they just wanted each other to love them. ScarxNala and what they each have to say about it. Some swearing and, er, mature content.


Obsession- Rewritten  
_Sulkie Wolfen_

Ehh. I said I was leaving, but this stuff is great writing practice. Sorry for out-of-characterness. I tried to capture Nala's calm by making her somewhat analytical, and I think I made Scar evil enough for once, without accidentally getting rid of his self-doubt. So it should seem a little more in-character than the old version, at least! x)

SCAR;

What did my brother have that I don't have?

Adoring subjects, a loving family, and a devoted queen. And that's what I picked- I needed a queen, to carry on my line. Was that what made the reigns of all the kings before me different than mine? Was that the secret to my success? I'd be damned, then, if I didn't select a "devoted queen"- and therefore seize my immortality.

We all know the story. And it was never love, it was just the need to be loved. The need for the pride to whisper something about me other than how much I needed to improve. And it wasn't, either, that I needed _her_ love. I thought that if she and I... then I would be accepted by the pride.

And why? Because I wanted to be adored. I would do anything to be king- and I did. I murdered, I lied, I cheated. I thought if I was king, people would love me. Can you blame me? The pride had loved my father, the late King Ahadi. And they had loved my brother, the late King Mufasa. But I guess it didn't work.

So years later, I asked everyone I could find- why am I not loved? When my name is whispered through the pride, is this talk of love or regicide? Tell me I'm adored!

But they couldn't do that. So I asked what I could do that enabled them to tell me I was adored. Adoring subjects. A loving family. And as I said, I settled for a devoted queen. And who but Nala entered the room next!

It made all kinds of sense to me. She was young, beautiful, and had previously been betrothed to the late Prince Simba. So I complimented her on her timing, and raved for my luck on running into her just then. Of course, like any young thing would be, she was completely disgusted. I guess she should have been. She rejected me- and why not?!

Her claws raked across my face, and I told her how much I loathed her acts of violence. And then I told her she would be mine someday- one way or another. And I guess I was right.

NALA;

I didn't love him. I didn't even like him. I hated him as much as anyone else in our pride.

But I had been betrothed. And I had been happy. I didn't have to worry about my future- I always knew that I would grow up to be the queen of Pride Rock. And I lived every day with my future husband, Prince Simba. So when he died, things changed a bit!

For so long I'd been living like half a person. For years, trapped in this continuum of emotionlessness. I knew nothing of love, of happiness, of interest. And I was _tired_ of living like half a person- by this time, it was better even to feel like crap than to continue being so... bored, frankly. So I didn't care that the only person who wanted to have sex with me was the very same tyrant who was starving us day in and day out. I just wanted to have a fucking emotion already.

I rejected him at first. Who wouldn't? He was a freak. But yes, I came back. I was past logic, past order. He wanted me, and I just wanted... well, to be wanted. By anyone! It was him or no one, now or never- who was I to refuse the offer of affection, at long last?

You should know that it only happened once. Unfortunately, once is enough, and in all likelihood, the product will walk among us soon enough. He doesn't have to know, but I think someone should.

But then I left. After a night of sex with Scar, I fled the Pridelands in search of help. And I guess you know the rest.

SCAR;

She's lovely.

NALA;

He's awful.

SCAR;

All it takes is her name to send me quivering. Just to hear the name- Nala- makes me want her, and no one else to be my heir. Her name belongs in a song... a beautiful song, or an opera, or any other work of art. Any song but mine, but that's the only one it ever got.

Of course, the eyes help too. They're a beautiful shade of green, but not the way mine are. Comparing her to me is a sin, for she is perfection... and I'm just not. There's nothing I could ever do to deserve her, but I received that which I could never deserve anyway.

And there's her fur. A creamy tan, which flows perfectly. Never has a strand of fur stuck out amongst the others, or developed a curl, or in any other way fallen out of perfect alignment. It is accented slightly by a lighter shade of the same color, and the two colors blend into each other perfectly. It is not an abrupt change, but neither is it so slow you can barely detect it. The way said fur falls along her perfect body leaves me breathless. Her dark nose and green eyes contrast the tan exquisitely, and at the end of her tail the tan turns to an adorable dark brown. Her size is entirely ideal, and her face creates a perfect curve. Her legs are plump but wonderfully shapely.

Just to look at her I feel sinfully gluttonous, for she is so unbelievably decadent. So to touch her in the way I did, my hedonism is unrivaled. But I still do not love her. It is merely a lustful feeling- and in all likelihood, it is nothing more than an extension of my overpowering envy. Of my intense need to be respected as something more than a moron. It isn't love- I wish it could be. Instead, it's just three sins in the same paragraph. Well, I never said it was better than love.

NALA;

He's a dirty, disgusting creature. The name is frightening enough, and it demonstrates his filth perfectly. Hearing it immediately is immediately angering, and scares me enough to make me sneer. And his eyes make him look dead and menacing. They're small, and green, and no light ever enters their vicinity. His eyes are so empty, if it weren't for his terrible personality I still would never want to be his friend.

And that brings me to his namesake. The scar, a perfect carving across one eye, is the symbol of all he stands for. Of imperfection, of incompetence, of unapologetic villainy. And yet, the mark itself can seem so graceful. Though asymmetrical and hideous, it's the one thing on his entire body that makes sense. Because the symbol of what makes him imperfect is the only perfect thing about him. It's disconcerting enough to mention.

He's so dark. The colors that make up his fur are flat and uninteresting. They have no emotion, nothing to make them more than just shadows. So it's odd that I turned to him to feel emotion... among other things. My entire relationship with him has been an oxymoron.

Scar is frail and incompetent. Scrawny and imperfect. Disgusting and sinful. But I still succumbed to it. Because even he was better than nothing. I guess beggars can't be choosers.

SCAR;

It's over, but it was worth it. I may have achieved nothing, but it did satisfy me in a purely animalistic way, to be blunt. No matter how badly things may have ended, it's good to have said I did something during my miserable reign over Pride Rock.

NALA;

At least I felt something. But it wasn't love.

SCAR;

It was obsession.


End file.
